


Little Things

by mellowmallow



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellowmallow/pseuds/mellowmallow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles about a certain Professor and the leader of a disbanded organization. Feel free to give me prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home

Work, work, work, work work.

That’s all he does now, with the new discovery of Mega Stones and Mega Evolution. Augustine Sycamore, the top Pokemon researcher in all of Kalos and the youngest Pokemon Professor in the world, is a mess. He hasn’t have had anything proper to eat for the past week. It was always coffee, tea and some bread or biscuit to keep his stomach from hunger and throat from thirsting.

He has yet to arrange the files for his newest research when a someone burst into his lab (well not exactly burst, they had knocked).

“Um, can you come back at a later date? I’m kinda busy…” he told whoever it was that entered his lab, not bothering looking up from his files.

“Busy as ever, I see, Augustine,” a deep voice said. Sycamore’s head snapped up from his research and his eyes locked with a beautiful pair of pale sapphire orbs.

The Professor struggled to stand up from his seat and knocked over a couple of paper stacks as he stumbled over to where the fiery haired man was standing. 

“Lysandre…” he cracked a whisper, finding his voice. “It’s really you, isn’t it? Not a ditto… or a dream?”

The man chuckled and ran a metal hand through his hair. “Well, most of me, I suppose…”

Sycamore stopped and gaped at the robotic arm sticking out of the socket where Lysandre’s right arm was supposed to be. “Your arm… What happened? Where have you been all these years?”

Question after question rolled off his tongue and he found himself unable to stop his trembling hand from clasping the other man’s shirt. Lysandre moved his left hand, the real one, and placed it over Sycamore’s shaking hand. “When the machine collapsed three years ago, it crushed my right side.”

“Lysandre…” Sycamore moaned, and Lysandre smiled painfully at the memory… and at how uncomfortable his pants suddenly seem at the moment.

“It’s nothing Augustine. You should have seen my Gyarados. It was completely crushed under the rubble,” Lysandre closed his eyes and sighed, his hand moving from Sycamore’s to pat his hair. “It was the most noble Pokemon I had ever had the pleasure of knowing. It pushed me out of the way on the last minute…” he choked back a sob. “If not…”

Sycamore didn’t speak. He opened his mouth to say something, but the moment he did, his mouth was suddenly dry, and the words were lost to him. Instead, he hugged the other man tightly, not caring if he looked stupid doing it. Lysandre seemed to stiffen at the gesture at first, but he slowly wrapped his arms around the Professor and buried his face into the mop of the Professor’s hair, crying silently.

“I missed you,” the words came finally. Lysandre pulled away to see a ghost of a smile play on the professor— no, Augustine’s lips.

Lysandre smiled back and leaned in until their lips are only centimetres away. “Really now? One would think that, with all the work you have as a professor, you wouldn’t have time to think of anything else… Much less do anything else.”

“Not a day goes by that I do not think of you, Lysandre,” Augustine whispered. “I didn’t even know whether or not you lived… I missed you. I really, really did miss you.”

“Je suis à la maison, Augustine,” Lysandre whispered back, closing the distance between them. Augustine sighed into the kiss and smiled for the first time in those three years since the Genosenge Incident. 

“Bienvenue à la maison, Lysandre mon amour.”


	2. Unexpected

He’s never felt all these emotions in one sitting.

Fearful, yet fascinated, awed yet attracted… a powerful, personal feeling of being overwhelmed and inspired... And to think that he’s feeling all these things outside of his café, inside some warm, yet foreign lab, watching a young professor explain to him his findings with such passion that he thinks he may just have to kidnap the man should he refuse him.

Of course, he hasn’t asked, so what is there to refuse? But what if he did refuse? What would he do then? What should he do now? The professor was explaining the mystery of the Mega Evolution stones to him when he suddenly found the way his lips move even more interesting.

Lysandre found the way the other man’s lips would curve into a smile after explaining a long theory or stating his hypotheses, impossibly adorable, and that he would like more than anything to— 

“— ravish me on the table,” Sycamore had said.

Lysandre snapped out of his thoughts with a loud, embarrassed cough. “Excuse me?”

“They laid out a lavish meal on the table,” Sycamore repeated with a grin, oblivious to his acquaintance’s fantasies. “And then they presented me with Gracidea flowers, loveliest bouquet I’ve ever seen and/or had. Apparently it was a custom in the Sinnoh Region to bundle a bouquet of Gracidea flowers to convey gratitude on special occasions like birthdays.”

“Oh, you celebrated your birthday there or something?” Lysandre said dumbly.

“Well, yes, I was researching Sinnoh pokemon you see, I had to stay for at least a year or so to conduct proper research. It was rather nice of Professor Rowan to remember my birthday,” Sycamore smiled fondly at the memory, and Lysandre could feel his heart banging against his ribs.

“Are you quite alright, Lysandre?” Sycamore asked him, a worried smile replaced his smile. “Your face is quite red.”

“I’m fine,” Lysandre adjusted his coat and looked around the room, his eyes travelling everywhere, landing on the curious objects and stacks of books and papers on the table… anywhere… Just not on Augustine Sycamore. “It’s just… a little hot here I suppose.”

“Ah, I should really get the air-conditioning fixed.”

“You should,” Lysandre agreed, unprepared for the sudden attack. Before he knew it, his back was pressed against the cool walls of the lab, and a calloused hand tugging the waistband of his leather pants.

“Professor what—” Lysandre stuttered and weakly pushed the Professor away.

“Well, that’s what one would say,” Sycamore hummed into his ear, his other hand unbuttoning the flustered man’s coat. “That they feel hot when the air-conditioning is perfectly fine, and the receiving party would be so dense as to accept that sorry excuse for a well, excuse. Except, I’m not so dense to not notice how inattentive you have become to my little speech. In fact,” Sycamore licked his ear and Lysandre let out a soft gasp. “I would dare say you have been paying rather excessive attention to the rest of my body than to my research. Tell me, Lysandre, am I boring you with my all my scientific talk?”

Lysandre wanted to tell him no, but it came out as a soft whimper instead. Sycamore continued exploring the rest of the other man’s body as he managed to slip off the coat from his shoulders and proceeded to unbutton his shirt.

“Professor I don’t think…”

“That’s right, Lysandre,” Sycamore purred into his ear. “Don’t think.”

While Lysandre did like what was happening, he knew he wouldn’t appreciate being ravished on the cold, hard marble floor of Sycamore’s lab. Eyeing a comfortable looking sofa in the middle of the room, he made effort to push the Professor towards it, but his advances were stopped by a hand palming the tent in his pants.

“Ah-Ah,” the professor licked the lobe of his ear, whispering as his lips touched his skin. “You’re not escaping from me today.  
Lysandre clamped his lips shut to suppress a moan from escaping his throat but failed miserably when Sycamore bit his lower lip. He gasped and the professor took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside and taste him.

“Mmmm…” the fiery haired man decided to shut his eyes and just let the Professor do as he pleased. It may not be like what he had imagined, but it will do. 

For now.

Maybe when the Professor decides to visit his café he could carry out his sweet, sweet revenge then. But for now… 

Right now, the world is perfect.


	3. Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One-sided Serena/Sycamore Angst

Serena has always loved the Professor, ever since he had given her his Charmander. She’d been battling Team Flare and went and became the champion of Kalos because she thought it would make him proud. She thought he would have been very proud of her. Would have noticed her as Serena, not the Pokemon Trainer, or the Champion of Kalos, but just Serena, the girl who fell in love with him all those…

How long has it been? Days? Weeks? Months? 

It’s been roughly a year now since she became Champion, but she gave back the title to Diantha and is now happily working alongside the Professor in his lab. Well, for the most part. She was mostly away on field work, noting down certain habits of certain Pokemon to spend time in the lab, but whenever she gets back, the Professor was always there to welcome her back with open arms.

At first, she had thought that their relationship was progressing from professional to casual friendship and later… it could, would bloom into love. That’s what she knew, what she had thought… at first.  
It wasn’t until the first ever annual Genosenge Ball, a yearly celebration of the end of Team Flare’s plans and the day the apocalypse was avoided, when Serena realized that the fond look in the Professor’s eyes was actually a far away look… a very far away look.

It started with a simple question Diantha had asked him, that Serena realized that it was not her he was looking at all this time. It just so happened that the entrance of the lab was also facing Magenta Plaza.

“Do you miss him?” Diantha whispered to the Professor. It may have been low and almost inaudible, but Serena has always prized her good hearing skills. Right now, she wished she doesn’t posses such an ability. She looked at the Professor’s reaction from her little corner and Diantha’s sad smile.

The Professor had opened his mouth as if to reply, but closed it and nodded stiffly instead. It was never the same after that night. Days and weeks after, she would notice the same sad look in the Professor’s eyes, his smile was rather stiff and his eyes would always posses that look. 

The look wherein it seems that the Professor was looking at something that wasn’t there, looking at another time in the past… or maybe future, but never present. His soul was never present.

Serena guessed, that though he may be physically here, his heart was no longer in his research, but inside the small (now abandoned) café in Magenta Plaza, the one with the blood red walls and furniture, chatting with someone he once loved, and probably does still… who was now gone, because she killed him.

“I’m so sorry, Professor,” Serena whispered, tears in her eyes, as she watched the Professor gaze out the window, unmoving, relieving the memories of what once was, and can never be again.


End file.
